Luna
by Deathcrest
Summary: When a truce between two supernatural races is broken, the result leads to the re-ignition of an ancient war. Torn between love and duty, can the King of Vampires and the Sentinel of the Lycans amend mistakes of the past or fall to the power of Death?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own FMA.**

_AN: So, here is my first vampire-werewolf fan novel. I was wanted something different from the Twilight-esque series, and wanted to construct a bit of The Vampire Chronicles into this, so I hope it fit well. Anyway, have fun reading and I have written down a full summary below for dramatics' sake._

_Summary: After a truce that lasted over several centuries, a single event leads two superhuman races into a re-ignited war that could spell doom on both. When a high vampire official is killed, the evidence of the murder all point to the vampire's ancient enemy: the lycanthropes. Under the vampire king's command, the bloodsucker army attacks the fey lupine creatures, forcing the lycanthropes to retaliate. When the war grows out of hand and secrets are revealed, can the vampire king Roy Mustang and the leader of the lycanthropes, Elizabeth Hawkeye, mend the wounds of the past and unite their race...or will they be destroyed by their greatest enemy: death?_

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**W**ith a kind of speed that bordered on supersonic and an elegance that not even a formidable ballerina could exceed, Riza leapt from the top of the Empire State Building and across the chilly air. Her blonde hair flying out, and the white dress she wore flapping madly, Riza concentrated on the structure hurtling towards her. She saw the white color of the walls, the glass windows and steel panes. She saw the bright lights of the city at night pass by like flashes of light as she descended with dangerous speed.

At the last second, before she would hit window, Riza extended an arm and caught the rails by the side. Like a cat, she held it firmly and settled on the ledge softly, as if the extreme velocity she had jumped with had suddenly slammed and slowed down in seconds. With her free hand, she quietly opened the window. Once it had left a large gap for her to enter, she silently slid in, mentally praying that Lady Evita was asleep. She had no such luck.

"Riza! Where have you been?" Lady Evita, the curator of the Muse Hall, one of the world's most outstanding museums, thundered from across the long luxurious room. Though the woman appeared as if she was around her forties, she was centuries older. Being a lycanthrope like Riza, a fey creature that could transform to a lupine form through will, she had lived the world many times over.

After climbing down the window, and dusting the dirt off her white dress, Riza entered from the gaps in between the periwinkle draperies and looked at the elder lycan before her. She had honey-brown tresses, curled beautifully like the hair of the Greek goddess Aphrodite, and vivid green eyes. She had a strong jawline, a straight nose and soft cheeks despite her centuries. She was also dressed in a simple nightgown made of silk, the color of lovat, and it pooled around her on the carpeted floor.

"I wanted to see the stars. In a bright city like New York, one can never see enough stars. So, I went out and watched from the top of the skyscrapers." It was true, though. At night, the lights of the City were too bright for anyone to see the stars from the ground. Riza had no choice but to deceive her guards and sneaked away to innocently peer at the cosmic bodies that dot the night sky.

"You could have told me, Edward or Alphonse that! You didn't have to run away and make us believe that you were abducted by God-knows-what!" Lady Evita reproached as her vivid green eyes flashed lupine amber. It was quite common for lycanthropes, while in their human forms, to leak supernatural abilities, like changing the color of their eyes, while feeling some strong emotion. Riza had her fair share of doing the same.

"Yes, I would have but I wanted to watch the stars alone. Edward and Alphonse would have followed me like tails to a dog!" Riza reasoned as she threw her hands up. Edward and Alphonse were her personal bodyguards. Both were competent lycanthropes, very vigilant in their duties and were also brothers. Both had the same blond hair, and had light brown eyes, with flecks of gold. Edward became a lycanthrope at the age of twenty-one, his younger brother at the age eighteen. Riza cared for both greatly, but their banter could be annoying.

"And if you could have been kidnapped, or killed, in one of your escapades? What would you have done, then?" Evita retorted as she stalked closer, her eyes now amber with protective rage. Riza almost rolled her eyes.

"No one will kill me, Lady Evita. Not even the vampires festering around the city." Riza answered.

"Your overconfidence in your strength will be your downfall, Riza. I thought I taught you better than that, thought that I instilled in you the principles of being a true lycanthrope!" Evita countered. Her words, though said in blind anger, hurt but Riza did not let it faze her. Instead, she showed a warm smile that denoted the affection she felt for her surrogate mother-mentor.

"The lessons you have taught me have always served me well, Lady Evita. You need not worry, I will always be cautious." Riza softly said, each word honest and sincere.

Lady Evita was silent, her eyes still flashing gold. Slowly, the amber color faded and was replaced by vivid green eyes as the older lycanthrope took in a deep breath. Then, the woman moved towards the arch doorway. "Tomorrow evening will be the Atlantis Ball at the Tepes Palace. I have sent your dress to your secretary. You will have it by morning. Now, good night."

Riza smiled, knowing that the matter was now done and over. Her gaze followed Evita's fleeting form, before proceeding to close the window she had entered through. Looking around the quiet sitting room of the large penthouse, Riza shut the lights off and went to her own bedroom. She tossed her shoes to the side and smiled as her feet felt the soft carpet underneath them. Eyeing the expansive room, with its powder blue walls and large gaping windows, Riza sighed.

She didn't even bother to take off her dress as she climbed to her bed, the light of the shimmering city below reflected on the window glass. In her large king-sized bed, Riza felt alone as she drifted off to sleep. During some time later, she would expect her lycan guards to patrol outside.

* * *

In the quiet stillness of the night, the Death Agent swept through the wind as if flying with it. Feeling the great gust of air, he maneuvered himself properly to land on the rooftop quietly. In a matter of seconds, with his superhuman strength, the Death Agent silently landed on the steel rooftop. He looked around, and knowing that nobody saw him, he made his way down the roof.

Using his hands to level himself, the Death Agent grabbed a ledge and landed on the ladder by the side. He slid himself down until he came in contact with a large gaping glass window. Peering inside, the Death Agent curiously eyed the blonde woman sleeping in her bed. It seems the rumors were true: that the adoptive daughter of the curator of the Muse Hall was a lycanthrope, and one of the strongest of their kind. She was probably their Sentinel, the fabled lycanthrope who was unmatched in strength.

When the blonde woman turned in her sleep, the Death Agent quickly pressed himself into the shadows. Sentinel or not, one vampire was no match for a lycanthrope. He'd be mauled into shreds. Quietly, stealthily, the Death Agent took a peek down, taking in the fact that there were no guards in the lower areas. Without hesitation, he jumped off the ladder and into the cold air. The wind bit at his skin, his cloak flapping loudly as the ground came closer fast. Then, with acute strength, he landed gently unto the ground, as if he did not fall from a hundred feet.

Looking around, the Death Agent noticed that his presumption was wrong. There was a human guard by the closed gates that led into the New York Palace. The man was dozing off. The Death Agent smirked. It was only ten o'clock and yet the man was already tired.

"The Palace may need to hire a new guard, someone far more efficient and dutiful." The Death Agent murmured as he suddenly appeared by the man's side and grabbed him by his collar. The man came awake, stuttering and about to shout for help before the Death Agent threw him against the walls of the hotel. The man grunted as he came sliding down, his eyes clenched shut at the pain.

Before he could take a breath, the Death Agent was already there, gripping him by the neck. He lifted the man with one hand overhead and just kept on throwing him against the wall, the guard's skull giving off gut-wrenching noises as it was repeatedly slammed against concrete and stone, his moans cut short as his jaw was broken. Blood began pouring out of the guard's mouth, and a large tear appeared by the upper left side of the skull. The blood began to cake the wall, its excess dripping into pavement. When something cracked, and the man gave out a low grunt, a whitish solid lump stuck to the wall, covered in red. The Death Agent faintly noted that it was bone. When something pinkish erupted out of the side of his head, the Death Agent realized it was part of the man's brain.

How interesting, when the man was still gasping in pain.

Before anyone could come to investigate the dull thumping noises, the Death Agent ripped the man's collar away with his hand. The sweet fragrant of blood made the canines of the Death Agent elongate, his brown eyes turning neon blue. He opened his mouth wide, fangs exposed and extended, and bit the man's neck. Blood gushed out of the puncture marks, trailing softly down the guard's neck. Impatient and quite hungry, the vampire tore the neck apart with his teeth, revealing the severed carotid artery. Sweet-smelling blood blasted like a small fountain and the Death Agent lapped hungrily at the small flood. It began to soak his clothes and pool on the floor, but he didn't care. The blood tasted so sweet, so addicting; a forbidden form of wine.

When his hunger was sated, the vampire let the blood flow. He watched as the red liquid of life leaked out of the dead man's body, draining it of all function. When he was sure that none would come, the vampire gripped the man's head in one hand and ripped it from its body. He let the body collapse into the pool of blood, while his now-brown eyes observed the man's face. It was now slack, mouth open and eyes wide in his last scream of horror. Smirking, he threw the head against the blob of blood on the wall.

Turning his sights away, the vampire leaped into the night and vanished amidst the shadows.

* * *

Roy Mustang sighed as he flicked a Knight off his side of the chessboard. Inside the great throne room of his palace, amidst large curtains of red and gold and crystal chandeliers hanging above, Roy was bored. Sighing again, Roy threw away a Queen, watching as it rebounded off the wall and unto the floor. He turned his gaze back on the chessboard and glared. Yes, Roy Mustang, King of the Vampires, Prince of Darkness, Lord of Hell, Fiend of the Living, Heir to Count Dracula, God of the Undying, was ultimately and irrevocably bored. So bored that he pulverized the chessboard by his will alone.

As the remains of his chessboard, one made of pure gold and silver, scattered on the intricately designed floor, Roy lifted his hand and snapped for a servant. A woman came in, brown hair elegantly curled and wearing a tight red dress. She bowed, her curls falling unto her chest, forcing Roy to gaze on her large mounds.

"My lord?" The woman asked once she had stood. Roy gazed upward and into her face. She was pretty, that he could say and from what he had seen on her chest, packed quite a package. But he was in no mood for liaisons, and instead he asked.

"What are my plans for tomorrow?" His bass voice echoed inside the cavernous throne room. He could see the woman's left eye twitch for a second at his question.

"Tomorrow will be the Atlantis Ball, and it will be held in the palace, my lord." She answered. Roy nodded.

The Atlantis Ball was a celebration of the arts that the Tepes family, and now the Mustang family, held every one-hundred years. In truth, there was a deeper meaning to the ball than what meets the eye. The Atlantis Ball was actually a cover for the celebration of the Treaty of Ordoghaz, the millennium-year old truce between the vampires and the lycanthropes. Five-hundred years before Roy was born, the vampires and the lycanthropes had clashed in a great supernatural war. After seeing the massive casualties on both sides, the leaders at that time met in secret in the ancient castle of Ordoghaz to discuss a ceasefire. The Queen of Vampires and the Sentinel agreed on a truce, and from there on out, their descendants came together every century to celebrate the peace.

Now, Roy finally realized why the whole castle was in a state of optimum perfection. Sometimes, he thought that he was being a very bad leader, forgetting important events and such, but he can be rarely faulted for not remembering. Once, he had forgotten that it was daylight and walked out, only to be badly burned by the sun's harsh glare. Oh, he shuddered as he remembered the wild rage his mother had let loose at his delinquency.

Turning his gaze back to the servant, he raised a hand and shooed her off. Once she had gone, Roy stood from his gold and ruby throne and approached one of the large gaping windows. He watched the Transylvanian mountains in the moonlight as he contemplated on the ball tomorrow, and the future of his country. His thoughts suddenly landed on a matter that one of his subjects, one of his best friends actually, brought up: marriage. It was required for every King to be married. And in all vampire history, there had been no record of a bachelor ruler.

After Jean Havoc carelessly brought up the subject, it was difficult for Roy's mind to let go of it. He had once considered courting a noblewoman from the high court, but all he had seen in them were ill-fated, social-climbing, double-faced sycophants. They only flaunted themselves at him so that they may have the chance to become Queen and bask in the splendor and attention the wife of the King of Vampires receive. Such poor wretched souls really.

He sighed again as the feeling of loneliness crept on him like a spider on its web. He was three-hundred and twenty-two years old but he had still to find the perfect mate. He longed for the one that could warm his heart and give him life, but it seemed that such a woman did not exist. Sad really, he had been quite sentimental about it. When Roy was young and his father alive, he would often see the man alone by the fireplace, his face stormy. But when his mother, in all her grace and beauty, came into the room, Roy always watched with mesmerized awe as his father's face brightened and his eyes sparkled at the sight of his mother.

It had been a deep secret, a quiet longing, to have the affection that his father shared for his mother. And for such affection to be returned equally and unconditionally. Roy sighed again as he turned against the window and crossed the throne room and into the hallway, the torches lighting the way. As he entered the lighted hall, the carpet a thick red fur, portraits of his ancestors decorated the walls. Some of them vampires, some human. When he passed a certain portrait, Roy stopped and turned.

The portrait had been and will always be his favorite. It was a depiction of an extremely beautiful woman, with long shimmering golden hair and warm, effervescent caramel eyes. Her face was round, and demure-looking and it gave off a kind, caring demeanor. She must have loved the painter, for she had smiled softly and lovingly in the portrait, her eyes framed by thick eyelashes. She was wearing a deep brown dress lined in fur, and small choker-necklace enclosed her throat. A shining emerald was in the choker. Roy always loved this portrait because it always given him the greatest drive when he was down. Whenever he felt tired and weary of un-life, this portrait made him stand straight, chest out and head held high. Smiling in spite of himself, Roy stepped close to the portrait and read the plaque below it.

_'Elizaveta, Countess Hawkeye. Circa 1263'_

"Well, well Elizabeth. You seemed to have inspired me again. Well done, fair Countess." Roy muttered quietly, sadly at the portrait. He raised his hand a caressed the canvas, wishing it was the actual woman's flesh. He stayed there for a moment, and then he was off to his quarters.


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: I hope you'd all review this time since criticism and reviews are what makes a writer keep on writing. It's funny, but when a story is published, and no one is there to review it, the writer would lose interest in the story itself. Not because the reviews mean more to him, or her, than the story, but the criticism pushes the drive to write and improve. I think all writers share that kind of drive._

_Anyway, I'd like to make one thing clear: I did not copy this story from anyone. When I first presented the idea to my friends, they were all "Hey, I think I have read that kind of story. Did you copy it?" or they were rather "Dude, that's like so Twilight!" and some were even "Ken, is this your version of 'Imortal'?". Which is quite really amusing, and annoying. No, I did not copy this. No, this is not Twilight. No, this is not my version of 'Imortal'. I had this story when I was in grade six, many years before Underworld, before Twilight, before Imortal, before whoever had the crap to copy this story. ;-)_

_Note: 'Imortal' is a current Filipino teleserye(A television series) that is about vampires versus werewolves._

* * *

**Chapter 2**

**R**iza growled as she backhanded Edward on the face. She watched as he was thrown back to a wall, grunting. Suddenly, Alphonse jumped to his brother's aid and aimed powerful punch towards Riza. She grabbed his coming fist and elbowed him in the chest, watching as he gasped in pain and fell to the floor. Before she could take a step closer, Edward had suddenly stood and was now throwing kicks at her. She hopped and thrust her body backwards as Edward performed a succession of low, middle and high reverse roundhouse kicks, perilously close to taking out Riza.

She grinned. Edward had been perfecting his techniques.

Throwing away the admiration for after the training, Riza jumped into the core of the battle as Edward ended his continuous roundhouse kick. Before he could prepare himself, Riza had leapt to the side, crouching like a wolf. She used her lycanthrope speed to move instantaneously to Edward's other side. She gripped his outstretched arm and threw him back. He grunted and cursed as he hit the wall, sliding towards the floor.

A great roar made Riza turn, and that may have just saved her as Alphonse hit the ground with a forceful punch. She was sure she heard the floor crack. Using Alphonse's shock to her advantage, Riza landed a kick to his side and watched as he went sprawling towards his brother's feet. Breathing deeply, Riza watched the two moan from the aftereffects of the training.

"You boys are good. You've improved, well done." Riza spoke as soon as she could. The two boys moaned before Edward released a laugh.

"Damn, Miss Riza. I don't know about that, but you beat us. Again."

Alphonse perked up and spoke. "Yeah, and that kick hurt."

Together, the three of them laughed in the quiet training room. Strolling towards the bench, Riza grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat off her face and her arms. Seeing as her black tank top was obviously wet, Riza also grabbed a shirt from her bag and sauntered towards the changing room. Once she had removed her tank top, Riza assaulted her body with the towel, wiping every inch of sweat from it. Now dry, Riza grabbed the shirt, her left eye twitching when she realized it was pink, and clothed herself with it. She held back a groan when she saw the words written on the shirt.

_'You know you love me. XOXO, Gossip Girl! ;-)'_

"Rebecca, I am so killing you." Riza muttered, realizing that it was her secretary that packed her clothes inside her training bag. How many times has she told that woman not to pack things like these into her bag? Riza absolutely disliked Gossip Girl, and Rebecca knew that . Somehow, the woman loved to enrage her boss.

When she came out, it was much worse. Edward and Alphonse had already changed, and they were sitting there trying to not laugh aloud when they saw Riza. She turned her lycan glare on them, instantly shutting them up. But when she turned, she swore she heard a snicker come from Edward's mouth.

"Edward? Alphonse?" Riza asked in a calm voice as she packed her things. Both boys stood and spoke together. "Yes, Miss Riza?"

"Please leave before I turn into a werewolf and eat the both of you for lunch." Riza deadpanned. Edward gulped.

"Yes, ma'am." And in a flash, both bodyguards disappeared. Finally alone, Riza chuckled to herself at their antics. Boys will be boys.

When she had finished packing her bag, Riza slung it over her shoulder and exited the fitness room. She hurried towards the elevator, passing beautifully designed walls and columns. She pressed for her penthouse triplex suite, her eyes roaming around to admire the lavish decoration of the lobby. After admiring the red-and-white tiled floors, the painstakingly painted white walls, the soft velvet lounge chairs and the gilded portraits, Riza finally entered the elevator. She smiled as a maid greeted her a good noon, and waited for the elevator to arrive at her suite.

On her way up, Riza suddenly remembered that the Atlantis Ball was this evening, in Hunedoara, Romania. When the elevator doors opened, Riza said goodbye to the maid and fished for the key in her pocket. She unlocked the door, closed it and threw her bag on the couch. She faintly noticed the large windows, carpeted floors, large couches, the black grand piano by the corner and the exquisite things in the room when she was suddenly marching up towards her bedroom and pulling out the large travel bag that she had prepared last night.

When her cell phone rang, Riza picked it up. It was her secretary, Rebecca.

"Hello? Riza, are you there? Well if you are, I'm coming now. Lady Evita has prepared all your other comforts, and she sent me to fetch you. We're coming right up the Palace now, so you better get into the shower. I've already called Edward and Alphonse, and they're by the ground floor lobby now. Is everything all right, Riza?" Rebecca asked, after what seemed a breathful of sentences. Riza smirked to herself as she grabbed a towel.

"Yeah, everything's okay, Rebecca. I'm taking a shower now, so I'll call you later, okay?"

Rebecca's laugh could be heard as Riza entered the bathroom. "Okay, and by the way, I've picked up an outfit for you to wear during the flight. It's in your closet with a note. Anyway, I'll see you in a jiffy. We're by the parking area now. Bye, Riza."

"Bye Rebecca!" Riza shouted as the shower turned on.

After finishing her shower, Riza opened her walk-in closet and searched for the outfit Rebecca had chosen. When she saw it, she rolled her eyes. It was a skirt. A black skirt, paired with a ruffled white blouse and a black blazer edged in white. Her footwear consisted of ankle-high boots with heels the size that Riza was sure would give her feet ache. She had no idea what brand it was, but it was probably Prada for all she cared.

Shaking her head, Riza donned the outfit, almost slipping when she wore the boots. Once she had finished, Riza went out and grabbed her travel bag. Just then, the door opened and came in Rebecca, all brown hair curled and clipped and all. Without further ado, Rebecca grabbed Riza's bag and went flying outside. Riza was sure that Rebecca was leaking lycan abilities; no woman was able to carry a travel bag the weight of twenty kilos without groaning and at a speed of a meter per second. Shaking her head, Riza closed the lights and locked the door before she went out.

* * *

The sleek black private jet plane sliced the air as it flew over the Atlantic Ocean, the glimmering reflection of the sun on its blue surface. Faint cirrus clouds, like slivers of tangy, wispy smoke, swam lazily across the powdered blue firmament. In the distance, the green and fertile lands of France and Spain was clear, and just below was the enigmatic land of Africa.

Bored beyond her mind, Riza took out a book from the pile set inside the window compartment. She took a look at the book's spine, read it was _Angels&Demons_ by Dan Brown, and sat back as she opened the pages of the crimson-colored book. Taking notice of her surrounding, Riza saw Lady Evita, dressed in a dark brown dress and wearing a matching scarf and gloves, drinking tea; Rebecca was busy with her PalmPilot, probably reforming some of Riza's schedules or formulating a new one. Riza sighed, the woman was stubborn as she was fierce, which was really something. Two seats behind her was Edward and Alphonse Elric, her two beloved bodyguards. Edward was sleeping, as expected. He was also snoring quite loudly. Expected as well. Alphonse, on the other hand, was wide awake and was enjoying the view. When Riza's acute sense picked up a soft, muffled mew and when she eyed him tensing and staring downward with an alarmed look, Riza sighed again.

She told herself to remember that she would speak with Alphonse later. Cats have got to go.

Turning herself to her book, and finally reading it, Riza allowed her imagination to wander as the plane made way for distant Romania. As the main character, Robert Langdon, was called in by the Vatican to help ascertain a political state threat, Riza eyed from her peripheral vision the blue of the ocean fading out as the plane finally left the Atlantic Ocean and was now entering French airspace. The captain was now contacting the French authorities for permission to fly over country.

When she was halfway through the book, with Robert Langdon and Vittoria Vetra hot on the trail of their would-be assassin as he murders the third of the _preferiti_ and on a ticking countdown of a mega-bomb inside the Vatican walls, the plane was now descending inch by inch. Stopping for a moment, Riza took in the fact that they were by the Mediterranean Sea and was nearing Romania. Lady Evita had taken a siesta an hour ago and Rebecca was playing TapTap Revenge on her iPhone, the song "Bad Romance" by the eccentric Lady GaGa in the air. Alphonse had fallen asleep, and a cute black-and-white spotted American Shorthair cat was curled inside his coat, embraced by a blanket and by Alphonse's hand.

Hmm. Maybe Alphonse could keep the cat. Riza mused.

When she was nearing the final pages of _Angels&Demons_, the Carmerlengo Carlo Ventresca snatching the antimatter bomb from the tomb of San Pietro and flying out in a chopper to effectively place out the Vatican from its apocalyptic end, the captain spoke through the InterCom.

"Good Afternoon, everyone. We are now descending towards Bucharest, and will be landing in Henri Coanda International Airport. Please fasten your seatbelts when the seatbelt sign is on, as we will be expecting minimal turbulence during landing. Once again, we are now descending towards Bucharest, and will be landing in Henri Coanda International Airport. Please fasten your seat belts when the seat belt sign is on, as we will be expecting minimal turbulence during landing. Thank you."

With that, Riza folded the page where she was reading, stowed it away inside the compartment, and fastened her seatbelt. Lady Evita had awoken during the trip and began fastening her own seat belt. Rebecca cursed as she turned off her iPhone, Evanescence's "Call Me When You're Sober" dying in the silence. Edward had awoken and Alphonse was busy tucking the cat inside his coat, which was mewing softly.

Dark storm clouds blanketed the horizon as the plane fell down a few notches. Riza pulled a scarf from her bag and wrapped it around her neck in a semi-tight loop, feeling the cold getting worse. Down below, she could make out the capital with its towering skyscrapers and traffic-filled streets. Farther away from it, near the horizon, amongst green pastures and fields and against tall mountains, Riza eyed the imperious Hunyad Castle, the home of the immortal leader of all vampires.

King Roy Mustang.

* * *

Roy Mustang watched as people, both vampires and lycans, entered his castled, decked in the finest of clothing. Ironic it was, really. When Roy was young, he had read an article in an ancient book about the Treaty of Ordoghaz, which stated that the first celebration consisted of vampires and lycanthropes joined in a solemn affair, both mourning the tragedy and the loss of the pointless war. Now, the celebration of the Treaty was treated as more of a social event, where people tried to stand higher than others. Amused, Roy shook his head as he tied his cravat.

Someone knocked at the door of his room, the muffled thump echoing in the large, finely decorated bedroom. Walking towards the door, his polished black boots stepping on the thickly carpeted floor, his black coat swaying. The face of his best friend, Jean Havoc, appeared from outside the door, a grin on his face.

Tall, muscular, blonde and handsome, Jean Havoc fitted the modeling genre rather than the vampire archetype. Dressed in a royal blue cloak with gold flowing lines that emphasized his bright blue eyes, a ruffled white dress shirt, white trousers and knee-high brown boots, Jean looked lordly. Curious, Roy opened the door widely and gestured for Jean to enter as he spoke.

"Jean, what are you doing here?" Jean stepped in, and sat down on one of the velvet-covered Queen Anne chairs.

"I've come here, Roy, because one of your subjects seems to have gone missing."

Roy halted in his steps, and turned to look at the blond vampire. "Who?"

"Lord Gunther, Roy." Jean answered as he turned to observe a Monet painting.

Roy racked his memory for a Lord Gunther. "Do you mean head of the vampire-lycanthrope cultural office?"

Jean nodded, his blue eyes serious. "The man has been missing for quite a few days. He left no note as to where he is going, and not one of his servants, relatives and acquaintances have any knowledge of his whereabouts."

"Odd. Perhaps he wished to travel in privacy?" Roy mused. Jean shook his head.

"This is different, Roy. I know Gunther. He's the type of man who wants everyone to know what he is doing, where he is going, what he is wearing and everything. The man has the loudest mouth in all existence. It's the fact that he had not informed anyone as to where he is that's making me suspicious."

Roy combed his hair with his fingers. "Well, we cannot achieve anything if we just sit here and talk. I'll form a rescue party for Gunther, have them scour the entire city and the countryside."

Jean nodded as he stood. He turned to exit, but Roy called him.

"And Jean? I want this kept under the covers for the moment. We don't need public unrest just because one man had gone missing. For all we know, Gunther snagged himself a lady and is now on his honeymoon."

"Alright, Roy." Jean answered as he left the room, Roy on his heels.

"Oh, and Roy, I forgot to mention one thing. With Gunther absent, there's no one to take his post as head. The council is asking for your confirmation for the appointment of Lady Carmilla as interim head."

"Good, good. I know Carmilla. She's strong-willed, independent, cunning, a bit ruthless, but impressive nonetheless. Inform the council that she will start tomorrow." Roy spoke.

When the two of them entered the hallway of the castle, with its cavernous ceilings and Gothic architecture, servants and lords and ladies bowed to them. Roy nodded his head and smiled at a few of them. One man emerged from a hallway and bowed to him.

"Your Majesty, the Sentinel and her ensemble has arrived, and so with the other lycanthrope dignitaries and ambassadors. The council members are requesting your presence."

Roy nodded and followed the man, with Jean by his side. As they entered the hallway, Roy heard the distant tolling of the city bell. On the way, Roy turned to Jean.

"The Sentinel is a woman?" He asked the blond man. Roy had never met the Sentinel now. He had met the preceding Sentinel, but when the new Sentinel came to take her post, Roy had been busy and so sent only an emissary to the ceremony. Jean nodded.

"From what I have heard, she was born in the United States, studied in Britain and worked in New York. She's the foster daughter of the curator of the Muse Hall." Jean spoke as Roy listened. Intriguing.

"Her name?" Roy asked.

"Elizabeth Hawkeye, Your Majesty." Jean answered as he turned to look to the side, at the steel armors on display, oblivious to the fact that Roy had tensed when he heard the name.

"Elizabeth Hawkeye?" Roy asked again, making sure he had heard it right.

"Yes, Your Majesty. Though I've heard that she prefers to be called Riza because an ancestor of hers shared the same name. I believe it was the Countess Elizaveta that the Sentinel meant. They do share the same name, and they share the same ethnicity."

Roy nodded as he listened. The Countess Elizaveta was a lycanthrope who had moved to Romania around the 1200s. Roy knew that, as he had a painting of her in the throne room. Who knew that the woman in the painting had a descendant who shared the same name. A part of Roy hoped the Sentinel was as beautiful as the Countess.

Once the three of them had entered the banquet hall, a herald quickly announced his arrival, grabbing the attention of everyone in the hall. Roy's senses suddenly flared as he smelled both vampire and lycanthrope. He could distinguish one from the other through scent alone. Vampires had the scent of dead blood, the sour, almost tangy smell. Lycanthropes had a powerful scent that consisted of powerful blood, life and a bit of human on them.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present His Majesty, Roy Mustang, King of the Vampire Kingdom." The herald proclaimed and bowed in sync with the people in the banquet. Roy nodded his head as he went towards his place on the throne. Next to his ornate seat was another seat, finely decorated with runes and jewels that were foreign to him. He knew that the seat next to him would be taken by the Sentinel herself, so Roy stood before his seat, looking out at the crowd.

Then, a woman with brown hair and wearing a fine midnight blue dress, emerged from one hallway. She walked towards the base of the dais of the throne and turned towards the crowd. Roy picked up her scent as that of a lycanthrope. Roy then realized that she was the Sentinel's herald.

"Lords and ladies, I present Her Eminence, Elizabeth Hawkeye, Sentinel of the Lycan Alliance." She announced, and Roy, along with everybody else, turned towards the great double doors.

The two double doors opened, and Roy realized that his earlier thesis was wrong. The Sentinel was not as equally beautiful as the Countess. No, she was more beautiful than the woman in the portrait.

Roy felt his breath quicken, and if he was human, he knew his heart would be thumping quickly and loudly. His muscles were tense as he stared at the beauty in front of him.

The Sentinel, Riza, was the spitting image of the Countess. But she was more graceful, more elegant, more beautiful. She was simply astounding with her thick mane of blonde hair that tumbled like a veil of gold around her; with her elegantly arched eyebrows and penetrating caramel eyes that Roy knew could pinpoint anything that moved; with her porcelain skin and plush lips that Roy wanted to caress, to worship. The silver dress she wore accentuated her features beautifully. The dress itself was as beautiful as the woman wearing it. It had a low neckline, but not immorally so, fitted a tight bodice, and fanned out by her hips to tumble on the floor. A lithe leg came out of the dress, wearing matching stiletto heels, as the Sentinel, in all her beauty, came towards him.

Her expression was indifferent, almost detached. She walked with an air that seemed to radiate a warning: do not come near. Her gloved hands were by her side as she came towards her seat on the dais. When she came close, Roy realized she was wearing a silver choker-necklace that displayed a gleaming sapphire. Roy could feel his neck heat when the Sentinel stepped up and came close to him, following suit and standing before her chair.

For a moment, everything was silent, Roy's eyes stealing glances at the woman beside him. Then everyone suddenly came out of their stupor and clapped their hands. As if on cue, Roy and the Sentinel sat in their respective seats at the same time. Roy sat straight in his chair, his hands by the rests, his back erect, his head held high. On the outside, he seemed imperious. But in the inside, Roy was acting like a hormonal teenager. The woman beside him was causing dark thoughts to come in his head. Roy wanted to groan as his body betrayed him, and felt all the blood drop towards his groin.

This was going to be a long, long night.


	3. Chapter 3

_**AN**: I'd like to thank all those that reviewed, and I hope that it won't end. Everyone, enjoy this chapter!_

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**Chapter 3**

**R**iza took a sip from her wine glass and leaned back on the bejeweled throne, feeling the slight warmth the wine provided her throat and the sheer softness of the velvet cushion on her back. She then gazed at the masses, both vampire and lycanthrope. To her side, the Vampire King was also doing the same thing.

"Curious." Her ears perked up at his word. His voice was low, baritone and gave her chills, but Riza ignored it as she turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

He turned to look at her, and Riza caught herself before her jaw dropped. Roy Mustang had a round face, a strong jawline and chin. His nose was aristocratically straight, like the ones that she saw in paintings of old kings and queens. When she first saw him as she walked towards the throne, she thought his eyes were black. Instead, Roy's eyes were of the deepest, darkest blue; a color that she had never seen in her life. His eyes enchanted her, bewitching and timeless. Thick black hair, messy in an attractive way, framed his stunning face perfectly.

"Miss Riza?" His deep voice drew her from her thoughts and she focused once more on their conversation, and not on his perfect face.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty. What were you saying?" She asked, trying to ignore the heat in her throat, the butterflies in her stomach and the sweat in her palms. Thank God she wore gloves.

Roy smiled, or rather smirked, and repeated his words. "I said that it's curious to see vampires and lycanthropes in a social event, especially of a solemn kind."

Riza nodded and turned her eyes away from his and back into the crowd. "Indeed, Majesty. I had expected for my people to be respectful of the meaning of this event, and not to treat it as a pageant for social-climbing. I guess I was wrong."

She heard Roy chuckle, a deep rumble that sent shivers down her spine. "I agree with you perfectly, Miss Riza. I, too, presumed that everyone would be more reverential to the reality of this celebration. This event was made to honor the cessation of a devastating war that destroyed both our people. I must say I am disappointed to see that everyone is regarding this as something like a gala."

"Well, as much as I dislike the idea of treating something sacred as normal, it does make sense." Riza replied, her eyes distant.

"Whatever do you mean, dear lady?" Roy asked, his velvety voice low and husky. It sent shivers down her spine.

"The war had been a monolithic blanket of terror on both our people. I find it sensible that they should treat its end with festivity. After all, we want to remember the times of joy instead of the times of madness and murder." Riza answered, turning to look at him, a smile gracing her lips.

Roy found himself entranced by her face; her brown eyes; her clandestine smile and the light that shone in her eyes. She was, indeed, a beautiful woman. And remarkably, she looked like a duplicate of the statuesque Elizaveta Hawkeye in his paintings.

And before he could think, the words flew out of his mouth like the released song of a phoenix.

"Who are you?"

Riza's eyes narrowed down in confusion, her perfect features distorted in bewilderment, her smile gone. "What do you mean, Your Majesty? I am Riza Hawkeye, the Sentinel of the Lycanthropes."

"No, I knew that. But how are you related to the Countess Elizaveta? A friend of mine informed me that she is your ancestor, but you extremely resemble her for it to be a distant relationship."

Riza seemed to understand him as her face relaxed and her smile returned. "Oh, that. Elizaveta was one of my family's greatest ancestors. I believe she was the mother of my great grandmother's grandmother."

"Really? Intriguing. I don't know much about my ancestors. Yes, I do know their names, their titles and their families, but I've never really conversed with them because they are either long dead or hibernating somewhere in the world. That is how reclusive my family is." Roy grinned, his perfect white teeth gleaming in the light.

Riza smiled a bit as she sipped some of the wine. The silence that dipped between them was quite awkward. It left their conversation on an open note, clear to everything but very uncomfortable on both sides. Riza had never talked that much with sovereign heads, as she would usually be down on the floor either greeting people she knew or talking with Rebecca. In a way, she never really had any other form of communication outside her 'circle'; which included Edward, Alphonse, Rebecca and Lady Evita.

She heard Roy cough and saw him open his mouth, but another voice interrupted him. She turned and realized it was Rebecca. "Pardon me, Your Majesty, but the Sentinel is due to meet with several lycan and vampire dignitaries."

"Of course." Roy said, before turning to look at Riza with his deep, dark blue eyes. "I will talk to you, later?"

Riza nodded before following Rebecca down towards the floor, her silver dress fanning out behind her. As she followed Rebecca, Riza allowed her eyes to travel around, taking in everyone and everything. There were majestic pillars, white and tinted with gold that held up the ceiling. Various statues and effigies, all beautiful and resplendent, decorated the sides. Banners and draperies hung from ceilings in shining colors, from crimson to purple to azure. The high ceiling, glittering with the many polished jewels embedded on it, loomed over the hall like a painted sentry.

Riza recognized most vampires and lycans from each other, with the vampires being deathly pale and with piercing eyes and the lycans looking like humans but with a vibrant burst of energy in their eyes. She recognized a few and turned to greet them.

When Rebecca led them to a table near a large Anubis statue, Riza recognized the people sitting. They were all lycans and were part of the Assembly. They all fell silent as Riza approached. The Assembly was the direct power immediately beneath the Sentinel. They were in charge of passing lycan laws and regulations, acted as High Court and made major decisions regarding the Lycan Alliance. The Assembly holds much power over the lycan government; however, the Sentinel could override any of its decisions if they are deemed to be against lycan justice.

The Assembly was composed of eight men and women, of which some are powerful lycans in their own right. The High Chief or Chieftess was obviously the Sentinel and was followed by the High Judge and the heads of several different sectors of the lycan government.

"Riza, how do you fare this evening?" Cain Pervotti, the High Judge, spoke, his deep voice reaching her ears. Pervotti was from Italy, and had tan skin, curly brown-black hair and warm dark eyes. He was what the majority of the population would deem as appealing, but of which Riza would politely and mentally disagree with. She found his arrogant demeanor and lycan-supremacist ways as destructive, but his intellectual and political prowess allowed stability to run into her government.

"I am well. Thank you for asking, Cain."

The other lycans resumed their earlier conversations as Riza dropped unto a seat. To her left was Vivian Merlot, the British head of finance, whose fiery red hair clashed intensely with Riza's blonde. On her right was Fernando Montedavid, the Filipino head of culture. He gave a nod of acknowledgement when she sat down before resuming his conservation with the Russian Anastasia Ferodorova, the head of international cooperation.

"Riza, I would like to speak to you on a matter regarding our security. It is of the upmost importance and I'd appreciate if we can drop all formalities on this matter." The head of defense, Markus von Dermor, spoke, his hard grey eyes locked on hers.

"Of course, Markus. What is this matter?" Riza asked. The German drew close to her as he spoke.

"There have been reports of missing lycans all throughout our territories. Especially near major vampire metropolises."

Riza's eyes narrowed at his last sentence. Though the war had ceased centuries ago, there were still people, both vampire and lycan, who still hold a great deal of dislike for one another. Von Dermor was one of those lycans.

"I do not like what you are implying, Markus. Though there may have been lycans disappearing near vampire cities, that does not immediately mean the vampires are responsible for it. We have crimes that are caused by our own lycan hands, and I believe that our vampire brothers and sisters _deserve the benefit of a doubt._" Riza emphasized her last few words, glaring at Markus. She watched as the man stiffly sat back, his grey eyes shocked. Then, he relaxed and his eyes dropped to the floor.

"I-I—Forgive me, my lady. I did not mean to insinuate that the vampires had something to do with our breach of security. I thought—"

"Then be mindful of your words, von Dermor. I will not tolerate _anything_ that will cause strain on lycan-vampire relations." Riza growled her words, her eyes taking an amber hue.

By now, everyone seemed to have heard of their dispute and all eyes were fixed on Riza and Markus. The head of defense had, by now, acquired a deepening red on his cheeks. When the gold hue slipped from Riza's eyes, everyone breathed a sigh of relief and resumed the former festivity.

"Excuse me." Riza spoke frigidly before standing and turning her back on the Assembly, her silver dress trailing behind her like shimmering smoke. She did not smile at anyone as she passed them swiftly, her anger too much for her to control. She led herself out of the hall and into the many dimly lit passes of the castle. From behind, she heard the distant call of Rebecca, begging her to come back.

Not wanting anyone's company, Riza tapped into her lycan speed and instantaneously ran away from her secretary. Shadows swirled around her as she ran from Rebecca, the darkness molding into irregular shapes. Tall statues, probably of the Vampire King's ancestors, stood like stone witnesses to her escape, their unseeing eyes creepily staring at her as she ran by.

Left, right, up the stairs and down balustrades Riza went. The flickering torches hissed as she flew by, the shine of her dress like the diaphanous clue to her whereabouts. When the darkness seemed to illuminate, and when cold wind began to prick at her skin did Riza slow down to rest. For a lycan like the Sentinel, her earlier play of power did not tire her at any way but Riza gladly relished the breeze. It calmed her down.

Slowly, she followed the distant light and soon found herself on a lonely balcony. The low wall gave way to the beauteous landscape around the castle. Under the pale light of the moon, the towering trees seemed dark and the outlines of large mountains instilled discomfort in anyone, but for Riza, the sudden dark beauty of the forest made her think of clandestine villages of faeries and elves. True, she was a fierce leader but that did not deter Riza from opening herself to the world of fantasy. When she was young, Riza always pretended to live in a world of mythical creatures like griffons and centaurs and sea witches.

She was so deep in her reverie that she did not notice the gliding shadow that suddenly materialized behind her. Realizing it too late, Riza quickly turned to aim a hard punch when her fist met only thin air. She then felt a sudden prickling at the back of his neck. Eyes widening and turning into gold, Riza looked behind her, fingernails now sharpened and claw-like.

Gold collided with blue.

Before her was the Vampire King, in all his marble beauty, sitting on the low wall, his posture relaxed. His eyes shone with amusement, and his lips twisted in a small smile. The faint breeze made his hair waver around his face, giving him a mysterious aura.

"It seems of the most extreme irony, this situation is." He said, his deep voice easing the tension in her body. His eyes then flew to her claw-like hand. Realizing, Riza quickly retracted her claws, her fingernails returning.

"What do you mean, Your Majesty?" Riza asked suspiciously, her now-brown eyes glaring at him.

The Vampire King chuckled before answering. "I mean, it is of my greatest amusement to find that King of the Vampires, the strongest of them all is here before his lycan equal, on the same spot where the leaders of our two races had first clashed in battle. Ironic, no?"

Frowning at his words, Riza asked as she fisted her hands. "What do you wish to insinuate, Your Majesty? That I will battle you here?"

The King stood from his seat and held his hands out in an appeasing gesture. "Oh, by all means no. I simply meant to theatrically and verbally re-enact your earlier actions. You almost had me, Sentinel."

Relaxing a bit, Riza loosed her fists. "And you me, Majesty. Forgive me for attacking you. I thought my being was in danger. But do tell why you are here, though."

"Your being shall never be in danger around me, Riza." The King softly spoke, his words like the tendrils of a dark spell. Riza blinked, confused and uncomfortable at his words. But before she could delve deeper into their meaning, the King had continued speaking.

"I saw you storming off a while ago. It seems that one of your subordinates had the unfortunate luck to contradict you, am I right?" By this time, the King had stepped closer to her and his scent filled Riza's nostrils. He smelled deliciously, but in some dark way.

"He was staunch in his beliefs that the vampires were responsible for the unexplainable lycan disappearances lately. I reprimanded him for his supremacist ideas. I believe I was right for correcting him, am I not? I am not mistaken in trusting your word, Majesty?"

The King turned to look at her, something undecipherable in his eyes. "Why are you so quick, so unflinchingly fast, to suspect us vampires, Sentinel?"

The question awakened a thought in Riza. Why though? Why was it so easy for her to blame the vampires for what was happening, when they had proven their trust by not waging war against them for several centuries? Was it her protective instincts, or was it a deeper clairvoyance? Was it an inner sense that made her cautious and that influenced her to stay safe? Riza didn't know.

"I honestly do not understand why, Majesty. I am sorry if I have offended you. I shall leave now." Riza spoke and turned to exit when she felt a warm hand gently grab her arm. Surprised, Riza turned to look at the King. He was now standing uncomfortably close to her. He was so close that she could feel his breath on her neck, eliciting a chill in her.

"Stay awhile, Riza. Leave me not, please." His words, phrased anciently, made her instantly fall under his spell. Surrendering herself, Riza turned and slowly placed her hand on top of his, her fingers curling around his wrist. It was surprising to feel a vampire's hand as warm. Usually, they were stone cold and hard, but the King's were alive with life.

His blue eyes seemed darker, like black fire, and they drowned her in their murky depths. Something akin to a warning bell burst in her, making Riza step back. Some unknown force had warned her not to get too close. The King's pleasant face turned into a questioning one.

"Are you alright, my lady? You do not seem well. Your face is pale and your skin is awfully clammy."

Riza's breath shuffled in her chest, and she had to swallow the lump in her throat before answering in a slightly shaken voice. "Yes, I am fine. T-Thank you, Majesty."

The Vampire King did not let go of her as he searched her eyes. Riza stared back at him warily. At last, as if he had searched her eyes enough, the King smiled and let go of her. He stepped back and gestured for his side. "Come, join me here. Let us talk. Heaven knows how I badly desire for intelligent conversation."

Riza stared at his extended arm for a while before nodding and stepping close to him. She stood by his side and watched the dark forest together. Silence hung in the air as both searched for words to say.

"Sentinel, such a high position. What does it feel like?" The King asked, from out of the blue. Riza blinked before thinking of an appropriate answer to his question.

"Tiring, but uplifting. It is exhausting to be a leader of a race that is to be set in secrecy, especially in times of trouble. But when I see my people, I am empowered to give my best and die for them, if need be." Riza answered, her voice strong and proud.

The King looked at her with some unnamable emotion before replying to her answer. "Strong words, my lady. Yet, to be backed with such strength and passion, I see that there seems to be no dark blight upon the lycans' future."

Riza smiled gratefully at him. She then asked. "How about you, Majesty? What does it feel like to be King?"

Roy Mustang let out a loud, deep laugh. It was a pleasant sound, and it made Riza's lips quirk upward in a small smile. His laughter echoed in the distant mountains, like a lasting chime of a fading bell toll. The King then turned to her and smiled. "For the three centuries I have been King, no one has asked me such a question. My advisors seem to delight in the fact that I was groomed to take the responsibility and with no questions asked. They did not put into consideration the fact that I, when I was young, detested the Crown and longed for the freedom of a Vampire Prince. But, as I grew older and matured, I came to appreciate the title I hold."

Riza, engrossed in his words, asked. "What do you mean?"

Roy stepped closer and answered. "Being King, I can change the wrongs of my ancestors and preserve the longevity of my race. I can be a beacon of goodness and a vanguard of the virtuous. Being King, I can impose laws and rules, help build organizations and campaigns and lead my people to a bright future. Yes, it is most arduous, but the fact that I am helping my people heal from the wounds of the war rejuvenates my spirit and sets me forward."

The King finished his speech by stepping closer to Riza, and lowering his head down to hers. He was taller than her and Riza had to look up to him, but it did not matter. His breath tickled her face, but Riza made no movement.

She watched his eyes, watched as they faded from their passionate gleam and reappear with a melancholic nostalgia. When the King spoke next, his voice had turned husky and full of longing. "But, it is most disheartening, for I can never find the perfect woman to share my eternity with. I desire a woman who shares the same strength and love I have for my people. I desire a woman who can hold my heart in her hands, and not let it rot. I desire a woman who I can put my very existence into her power, and not fear the consequences. Until now, I have not met such a woman."

Looking up, Riza whispered. "Don't lose hope. Someday, you shall find her."

Roy lowered his head, his lips almost touching hers. Riza's eyes closed slowly, and her heart pounded in her ears. "Maybe tonight, I did."

**

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Lady Evita had left the soiree to search for Riza when she chanced upon a shining object on the carpeted floor. It resembled a bit of the beads on Riza's dress and it led to the dark hallway before her. Her motherly instincts arising, Evita drew her strength and speed and followed Riza's trail.

What she saw had both astounded and amused her: the Sentinel of the Lycans, the most powerful woman on Earth, locked together in a tight embrace with none other than the King of all Vampires, the dreaded Immortal Prince of Darkness. Riza's head was on the King's chest, her eyes closed and a small smile on her face. The King, of what Evita had heard, was a man whose countenance rarely smiled. At this moment, he was grinning and his arms were wrapped tightly around her darling's shoulders.

She felt a growing joy inside her. Riza had been alone for too long. The work of a Sentinel was not an easy one. Riza had to put her people and their needs and wants above her own. She needed a little bit of happiness in her life. Evita smiled as she saw Riza open her eyes and look up at the King. The King gave her a wide grin before his hand came up and messed her intensely curled hair.

Evita just hoped that this would not end badly. She feared how it would affect Riza if this relationship should ever come crashing down.

**

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**

The Death Agent scoured the halls, his eyes looking from left to right. With the first part of his plan completed, the Death Agent now searched for another variable to his solution. He needed someone to take the blame, and it had to be a lycan. With that, there would be no stopping the inevitable.

His luck seemed to win out as a lycan emerged when he rounded a corner. The lycan was a man, tall and with dark hair. The lycan smiled at him. The Death Agent held back a sneer. He hated lycans, but he was forced to cooperate with this one in order for him to reach his goal.

"Ah, there you are. I was beginning to think that you would double-cross me." The lycan spoke, his voice mocking. The Death Agent badly wanted to rip him apart, but he knew that he was no match for the lycan. So, he kept quiet and continued to stare at the man.

"Not the talkative type, eh? Well, that doesn't matter. We do not need to communicate that much, anyway. Follow me." And with that, the lycan turned on his heel and faded into the darkness. The Death Agent followed. Together, both lycan and vampire rushed through the hallways, their eyes alert and cautious

"Where are we going?" The Death Agent asked, breaking the silence. The lycan stopped and turned to look at him.

"We are tying all our loose ends. In order for our plan to work, we must need someone to take the brunt of the blame. We need someone who will slowly and unwillingly aid us in our plan. We need a credible 'suspect'."

They passed several paintings and statues, their colors and textures like sand as they passed by. When the lycan stopped by a room, the Death Agent raised a brow. The lycan opened the door and entered silently.

Inside was a barren room, with dilapidated walls and broken seams and wood. There were torn chairs and ripped draperies and in the middle of the mess was a man in chains. He looked young, and his shirt was in ruins. Scratch marks and wounds dotted his muscular torso. When they entered the room, the man looked up with golden eyes.

The Death Agent suddenly knew what this meant. This man was their supposed 'suspect'.

"So, you have brought a vampire here. Why? So that you can watch as he bleeds me dry?" The chained man growled, his muscles tensing, his eyes never leaving their gold hue.

The lycan beside him laughed loudly, his voice echoing in the small room. "Bleed you dry? Do you actually think that I wish to see such brutish acts? No. But, you will be a valuable asset to us."

"Whatever it is you're planning, you are not getting away with it! The Sentinel will find out about this and she will rip you apart for your betrayal!" The chained man screamed, trying in all his might to break free from his chains. The Death Agent discreetly took a step back, alert for what the chained man might do.

"Do you really believe that the Sentinel could do anything to stop my plan? Well, I am afraid that there is nothing she could do about it. Her reign has come to an end. Soon, I will become the next Sentinel and lead the Lycan Alliance to a perfect future!"

The chained man howled in laughter, more so when the lycan next to him turned his eyes to the same gold hue as the chained man. "What are you laughing about?"

The man looked up viciously, and with an evil grin spoke. "You, a Sentinel? You would only bring shame to the title. Only the virtuous and the strong are capable of becoming a Sentinel. They are not chosen, but are born with it! You are a roach compared to their greatness! Not even the—"

"Enough!"

The lycan had suddenly appeared next to the man and gripped his throat. He threw the man back and watched as he hit the wall with a resounding thud.

That had been the lycan's mistake. The chain broke and the man tackled the lycan back. Before his ally could stand, the man had suddenly grown big.

The Death Agent's eyes widened. The man was turning into its wolf form.

But before it could complete its transformation, the Death Agent's lycan accomplice had stood and slashed the man's neck. Blood gushed out and the wolf fell to the floor, gripping the beams in pain.

"Riza Hawkeye will fall." And with those words, the man raised his claw-like arm and slaughtered the wolf-beast.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:** _I'd like to thank all those that reviewed the last chapter. You just made my effort all the more worthwhile. If anyone can suggest any kind of motivational piece of art or music or literary work, I'd appreciate it. My creative juices seemed to have run low._

_Remember, reviews are to an author as heroin is to a drug addict._

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**Chapter 4**

**S**weet, passionate whispers tingled across Riza's slumbering mind, causing her to squirm languidly and awaken. Still, she didn't want to wake up yet. She wished to sleep more, to feel the soft velvet beneath her and the warm pillow her head was lying on. When she wrapped her arms tighter around the pillow, she distantly heard a deep chuckle.

Slowly opening her eyes, Riza looked up to the handsome face of Roy Mustang, the pillow she was using. His eyes were half-closed and he had a content smile on his face. The orange light of the lamps flickered, causing shadows to shake across his smooth face.

Covering her mouth with a hand to hide her yawn, Riza asked. "What time is it?"

Roy smiled and placed his strong arms around her. "Exhausted of my presence, already?"

Riza hid a smile as she buried her face deeper into his muscular chest. She raised her hand and placed it on his abdomen. She felt the ridges and hard muscles and she felt Roy flex them. She let it come up to his pectorals, and she caressed the strong muscles there. All the while, Roy had his eyes on her, comforting and pleased.

When she made a soft sound of approval, Riza could imagine him having a smirk on his face. It happened to be true the moment she looked up as a faint upward quirk on one side of his lips appeared. Without any conscious effort, Riza placed her hand on his chest and used it as a leverage to raise her body upwards. Together, they softly plunged their lips together, feeling more contentment than they had ever felt in their whole lives.

Riza didn't know what this relationship of theirs was. Of course the sex was pleasant, as Roy had demonstrated last night. He had been gentle and affectionate when she wanted him to be, and at times as rough and passionate as she was. After, he had not stood up and left like she thought he might do. Rather, he had held her in his arms and fell asleep with her.

As she gave entrance to his probing tongue, Riza moaned. She knew that this…copulation was not love. They had just met, and though there was certain affection between them, it wasn't enough to be called love.

Their relationship might become stronger, and it may blossom into love, but the thought faded from her mind as the two of them soon became lost in the fiery tides of passion.

The sheets rumpled, the large bed creaked and the lamplight flickered as moans of ecstasy filled the room. Hands caressed and stroked, lips kissed and smacked and eyes widened and closed in a torrent of mad lust. There then came soon a primal cry of release as both fell against each other, gasping for breath.

Once they had calmed down and the air became cooler did Riza realize that her guardian Lady Evita and her best friend Rebecca must be looking for her. She had fled last night from the party without telling anyone where she went too. They must be frantic with worry.

Sitting up stiffly, Riza glanced around the lamp-lighted room, searching for her dress. From behind she felt Roy sit up and place his hands on her waist. All she wanted to do was lie back and return to sleep but she needed to see Lady Evita. God knows what the aged lycan could be doing now.

"I need to go." Riza said, as her eyes spotted the silver dress. It was set neatly on the top of a chair whose back was curved and faced a dead fireplace. She stood from Roy's arms and got out of bed, grabbing some of the blankets to cover her nude form. She could feel his gaze on her back, but Riza ignored him as she grabbed the dress from the chair.

"Where to?" His deep voice asked and Riza felt a shiver run down her spine. Tightening her grip on the blanket, Riza turned to look at him. He was lying on the bed, the lamp casting an orange glow to his nude form. His shoulders were broad and strong-looking, his pectorals large and elevated. Gazing downward, Riza eyed the strong abdominal muscles and his tightly-muscled legs. The man was glorious, even when he was not wearing anything.

Suddenly remembering his question, Riza raised her eyes to his face to be greeted by a smirk. Brows furrowed, Riza asked. "What?"

The King chuckled. "Miss Riza, I find the fact that you appreciate my physique to be flattering. That is all."

Riza resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I do not have the time for this. I have to find my guardian before she strangles one of my bodyguards."

As she smoothed out the wrinkles of her dress, Roy had gotten off the bed and moved silently with the air towards her. She froze when she felt his hands on her waist and was about to lash out if he hadn't spoken.

"Helping you dress yourself, that is all." Riza stilled for a moment before her muscles relaxed and she allowed him to help her with her undergarments. When Roy removed the blanket from her form, Riza blushed ten shades of scarlet before chastising herself. The man had already seen her in much…carnal positions. What was there to be shy about when he was helping her with her underwear?

With the undergarments done, Riza grabbed the dress and quickly dressed herself in it, inwardly relishing the fact that she wasn't naked anymore. Momentarily forgetting to zip up the backside, Riza reached back but was halted by the hands of Roy Mustang.

"No need, I shall do it." He said as he brought the zipper up to the lock. Once done, Riza turned and looked at him. The glow of the orange light played shadows across his handsome face. The dark blue of his eyes shone like flames, fiery and hot. Then there came the pull of arousal, the intangible connection between them.

Riza came close the moment Roy did. His hands found their way to her waist, gripping them reverently. She felt them as she was gently pulled close, her hips against his thighs, and his pectorals against the bodice of her dress. She could even feel the stiffening of his shaft as it poked her between her legs. His breath fanned out against her lips, causing her to tip her head upward, gazing at the bewitching blue eyes beneath crafted eyelashes.

The King's onyx hair was like a curtain as the man dipped his head, the light playing off the ebony strands. Their noses touching, Riza shut her eyes as she longed for the kiss that would sear her with its passion. She could now feel very air Roy breathed as he leaned close.

_Clang_! Came the sound of a distant tolling bell. _Clang_! Came the breaking of the mystifying spell that Riza found herself in.

Eyes wide with surprise, Riza tenderly placed her hands on top of the ones on her waist and gently pulled them away. For a moment, a flash of hurt passed through the dark blue eyes of the King but then they became emotionless.

As she listened patiently for the bell to stop ringing, a total of nine rounds, she counted the time to be around midmorning. It was no surprise, really. When Roy had found her by the balcony, it was probably past midnight. And judging from the fact that the windows inside the room were heavily draped with curtains, Riza was fully sure it was morning.

"You should go to sleep, my lord. " Riza said to the tense silence, eliciting warmth to grow in the man's blue-black eyes. Roy crossed his arms across his massive and impressive chest, muscles bunching and flexing. Riza had to stop herself from drooling at the sight.

"I am the King of Vampires, and you are ordering me?" Roy teased, his tone playful. Riza gave him a small smile.

"Of course not, milord. I merely detest being the cause of the deprivation of your strength. It is now past mid of morn, and you are way past your bedtime." Riza countered, smirking. Roy chuckled, deep and velvety, making Riza the recipient of a pleasant shiver down her spine.

"Past my bedtime? Alas, fair maiden, you sound like a mother!" Roy shot, his eyes twinkling with merriment. Riza gave him a face filled with mock-horror.

"Dear heavens, I do not wish to be identified as a mother! I was simply concerned for your strength. After all, you _are_ a very old man." Riza replied with a smile, enjoying their banter immensely. It mattered not that the circumstances were unusual, or that the King was bare of clothing. Their verbal mock-fight stimulated their minds, and pleased them both immensely.

"And of my strength, you have insulted! I am a King, and my prowess is infinite! As far as I remember, you seem to _delight_ in my passion, my lady." As he said this, a faint blush appeared on Riza's cheeks and she opened her mouth to tell him off when the distant echo of the bells brought her back to reality.

The change of expression on her face concerned Roy, as his own mirrored her seriousness.

"My lord, I must be honest, you must get some sleep. Worry not for me. I shall find my way." As Riza said this, the twinkle in the man's eyes faded and certain affection—fondness—came into the dark blue. With a blink of an eye, and in a flurry of shadows, Roy disappeared and materialized beneath the blankets, lying contentedly against the large pillows, hands behind his head and a smile on his face.

Riza broke eye contact and made a move to get her shoes. Once she was done, she sauntered towards the great double doors, hand on a knob. She gave one look back at Roy, and found herself struck to the ground. The intensity in those dark blue eyes rooted her to the spot. She felt a churn of emotions inside her—affection, desire, confusion—before she turned the knob.

"Sleep well, milord." Once she had quietly closed the doors, Riza turned to find two vampire standing guard out in the carpeted hallway. Perplexed, Riza looked around and noted that the windows were hidden beneath curtains as thick and coarse as rugs. The curtains were then attached to a device that held them up, a long cord-like rope hanging in the spaces between windows. When the rope was pulled to the left, the curtains opened. When pulled to the right, the curtains closed on the windows.

The vampires that guarded the room were small and child-like looking, but Riza knew better. When she looked into their eyes, a light blue—electric blue—shone fiercely, with a subtle hint of red. These sentries were elite guards.

From what Riza knew of the vampires, and from what she read from books written about them by various vampire authors, these 'Pale Men' with electric blue eyes were those that would make up the _common populace_ of the vampire world. In simpler terms, they were normal vampires. Those with flecks of red were identified as the _royal vanguard_. These vampires were more powerful and more dangerous than their blue-eyed counterparts. They lasted longer in battle and were adept in surviving harsh conditions. They also served as the protectors of the royal vampires and the Council members. Some of them even served as Councilors.

Now, the red-eyed vampires were what the vampire government identified as _royal-blood_. This, according to one author who studied the genealogy of the royal house, was due to the fact that Vladislaus Dracula—the progenitor of the Mustang House—had a consortium with the Devil and was infused with his power. Thus, when he died, his body was resurrected and came into the life of undeath. His mark was his glowing red eyes, and all those descended from him were to inherit it.

As she deduced this, Riza gave a nod to the guards, watching as they tipped their head in deference, yet their eyes remained cautious. Being a lycan, and much more at the fact that she was the Sentinel, Riza could take a couple of the _royal vanguards_. Her only match was in the _royal-bloods_, seeing as they are considered the most powerful of all vampires. When she moved down the hallway, Riza idly wondered if she was a match for Roy.

He certainly was powerful, even when not using his vampiric strength. That was proven true when she recalled last night's events, remembering as his muscles coiled and flexed as he pleasured her roughly. As a certain thought ran through her mind, Riza's face blushed and she fought to cool it down.

Her musings were cut off as she heard faint footsteps coming her way. Before the figure could appear, Riza was able enough to identify the swirling energies in the figure as that of a vampire. When a shadow passed by the corner, Riza slowed her movements as a man came into view.

He was as tall and as broad-shouldered as Roy. He also had a muscular physique, almost the same as Roy. But wherein Roy was tall, dark and handsome, the man before her had a certain…Yankee-kind of attractiveness. His hair was spiked blonde, which turned into a light brown as it streaked towards the back of his head. Blue eyes, like the noon sky, gazed at her as she made her way down the hall. He certainly was the complete opposite of Roy, yet still containing something that made her think of Roy.

They were total opposites, as Roy was pale and he was tanned, as Roy had dark blue eyes and he had light blue eyes, as Roy was dark-haired and he the color of wheat. The man, when she thought about it long enough, looked as if he belonged in a model industry instead of a dark, imposing castle. Now that she thought about it, so did Roy.

"Lady Hawkeye?" The man voiced out and Riza stopped in her tracks, leveling her gaze at the vampire. Riza nodded.

"I'm Jean Havoc." Riza extended an arm and waited as Jean took it and shook. Jean Havoc? Riza racked her brain for his name and realized that he was a member of the Vampire Council, and was a close supporter of the King.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, sir Havoc." Riza responded, displaying her well-practiced introductory smile. Rebecca had insisted in teaching her how a thing or two about smiles, passionately speaking as how smiles consisted a large part in first impressions.

"Same here, Lady Hawkeye. Hey, did you come from Roy's room?" He asked casually, surprising Riza. But before she could respond, Havoc continued.

"I mean, I know it's not my business and my place to ask, especially since it's obvious that it's something between you two, but Roy's my best mate and I look out for him. He's a brother to me, and I don't wanna see him get hurt. I know he does the same for me, and that makes me appreciate him more. He's the kind of guy that wears his heart on his sleeve for everyone to see, ya know? And being a King and all, it's really hard for him as people like to tear him to pieces in the tabloids or in the paper and all was even this one time when one man…"

Riza's mind stopped processing Havoc's rambling as she smiled absently. She did not even notice that she was smiling, all her thoughts on the slumbering Vampire King and the way his eyes shone with amusement and tenderness. He really was a rare man.

"…and the guy did not even give a damn! I wanted to rip him apart but Roy managed to stop me, saying it wasn't worth it and blah blah blah! Wasn't worth it! Roy's my brother, and I would know what the damn hell he was worth! I'd go the ends of the world for him and all he was doing was—"

"Sir Havoc—"

"—to stand there and act like it did not hurt him! I was so—"

"Jean!" The man halted in his rambling and just stared at her, mouth agape. Riza refrained herself from rolling her eyes. Instead, she spoke in a clear voice.

"Your friend is alright, Jean. He is merely sleeping in his room. I suggest that you, too, sleep. It is most tiring for you vampires to be awake at this hour." As she said this, Riza passed by him, her silver dress like a shining breeze in the dimly lit castle halls. Jean's gaze followed her as she passed and couldn't help saying one more thing.

"Where are you going, my lady? Roy would…" He trailed off as a hesitant expression clouded his face. Riza turned, confounded, and stood to wait for his words. Havoc seemed to have an inner turmoil, obvious from the distress on his face. Then, a determined mien set and he looked into her eyes. "For Roy would like to know where you are when he wakes"

Riza's face was emotionless for a moment, before a small smile grew on her lips. "Tell the Kin—tell Roy that I will probably be with my guardian when he wakes around dusk. Just tell him to look for Lady Evita, and I shall be there."

With that, Riza turned and raised a hand in gesture. "Farewell, sir Havoc. I will see you again this evening."

As Havoc watched the Sentinel's trailing figure, her shadow coalescing into the dark hall, a wide grin came upon his lips. She was so _smitten_ with Roy and he knew for a fact that Roy would be just as _smitten_ as her, no matter how much he would deny it when Jean would ask it later.

Ooh, this was going to be good.

* * *

Riza found Lady Evita by the castle gardens, enjoying a meal of croissants and milk. The woman was sitting on one of the finely designed tables amidst square bushes and tall statues. The gentle sunlight draped the tall tree and its hanging limbs, allowing a large shade to cover Lady Evita's table.

"Riza dear, good morning!" Lady Evita spoke, dusting off the croissant crumbles on her black skirt. Riza abruptly halted in her tracks as she absorbed Evita's words.

"Is everything alright, dear?" Her guardian asked, eyeing the shocked look on her ward's face. It was then that Evita realized that Riza did not know that she saw them on the balcony last night.

"Uh—yes! Everything is fine, Lady Evita." Riza said as she dropped to a seat next to the aged lycan.

"Here, have some of these croissants. They're absolutely delicious!" Riza nodded and grabbed one, biting into it. She savored the warmth of the food, and relished in the strawberry paste that was inside the croissant. As she ate, Riza thought out her words before she spoke once more.

"Did you not wonder where I went last night?" Lady Evita proved to astound her once more as the woman shook her head and took a sip from her demitasse. "Why?"

Lady Evita turned herself to face Riza before she looked into the Sentinel's honey-colored eyes. "I shall only ask one question, Riza, and you must answer it honestly."

Riza nodded as she finished her croissant. She sat straight and looked at Evita.

"Is he an amazing lover?" Riza swore that her eyes had widened and that she was stunned to momentary speechlessness. A jumble of thoughts came into Riza's mind, confusing her and making her unable to form a coherent thought. Blinking rapidly and looking like a daft woman, Riza shook her head lowly before she spoke again.

"I don't see—"

"I asked a question, Riza, and you must answer it!" Lady Evita said, her voice stern and firm. Riza pursed her lips, a scowl threatening to grace her features. Restraining herself from rolling her eyes, she answered.

"Yes, he is. Now, why are you asking me this?"

The aged lycan shrugged. "Curiousity is both a gift and a curse, my dear."

Riza raised a brow. "Then you must be a lot more curious than you exude yourself to be, for you would even ask me of my lover's…virility." Her eyes widening, Riza gasped. "Do you want to know the delightful positions we enacted?"

This worked as the woman's face contorted into a dark frown. Riza bit back the laugh threatening to release itself from her throat.

"Your sexual life cannot be held in my mind today!" Riza grinned, realizing the meaning of the woman's words. But before she could taunt her, Lady Evita realized her mistake and corrected herself in a louder voice. "EVER! Your sexual life cannot be held in my mind _ever! _Never ever!"

"Whatever." Riza muttered, grabbing another croissant off the plate. "But I am curious. Why did you ask if Ro—if the King was an amazing lover?"

"Ah, so it was indeed the King. I thought it was somebody else."

Riza realized her own error and she blanched. Lady Evita noticed this and did the most unexpected thing. She chuckled, her honey-tresses bouncing. Riza blinked a couple of times, feeling the blood return to her face.

She waited for the aged lycan to finish laughing, and when she did, the woman turned serious and looked at Riza with the most forbidding expression. "I only hope you know what you are letting yourself into, Riza. Your decisions weigh heavily upon our world, and you must not take your responsibility lightly."

Riza sighed, her earlier elation from thoughts of Roy dying down. "I know that, Evita. Do you think I don't understand my responsibilities to our people, to our world?"

She stood, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. She strode a few paces from Lady Evita, facing the groves of trees and bushes and mountains, but her voice carried out. "Being a Sentinel means forfeiting your personal needs for the benefit of our people. We have no time for ourselves, or for the ones that we love, since our duty is to be set above all else."

Riza wrapped her arms around her body, feeling a cold breeze pass by. "Being a Sentinel tore apart my family, Evita. My father was too wrapped up in his obligation to his people that he no longer appeared as a parent to me and a husband to my mother."

She turned back to gaze at Lady Evita, a tinge of regret coloring her voice. "I felt the pain of a family ripped apart by tradition, and I learned not to make that mistake again. I am the Sentinel, and I will not deliver a fate similar to mine to any man that I may grow to appreciate. Sentinels, after all, are meant to be alone."

A moment of silence lingered between the two women. Then the voice of Lady Evita broke the tense silence. "Do you regret becoming our leader, Riza?"

The Sentinel's eyes turned glossy, her thoughts faraway, and her voice absent of emotion. "No, never. I knew that it was always my destiny to follow in my father's footsteps."

"But your mother was a noble woman. She fought by your father's side as the High Judge during his tenure."

Riza shook her head slowly, eyes still in her memories. "When they were in public, they acted the perfect couple. Always by each other's side and helping each other implement regulations into the Lycan Government. But, when we are at home, there would be fighting, shouting and crying. It was pandemonium, you know that. I've told you many times, Evita."

It was now Evita's turn to sigh. "I know, dear. I know. Still, it is difficult for me to believe that your parents misunderstood each other so greatly. Then there was also you. You, who smiled and laughed and giggled as if there was no worry in the world. Whenever I saw you, the smile never left your face."

"It was easy to pretend that everything was alright when you are young. It was easy to pretend that everything will be better by tomorrow. But when father died and mother disappeared, I realized how distorted my view about life was." Riza spoke, "I was young and gullible. A naïve fool."

"Fools, pathetic they may be, do understand the world a little bit better than normal folk." Was the woman's reply.

Riza shrugged. "Intelligent fools. Now _that_ is a curiousity."

* * *

Roy took a sip from the wine glass he was holding, savoring the warmth the blood was giving him. The supplies from the Vampire Council's cover-up business, the World Blood Bank, had finally arrived. Reproduced blood from thousands of donors replaced the old vampiric system as to hunt down animals or hooligans for food. He could see his people enjoying the second night of the Atlantis Ball. With the celebration of the Treaty of Ordoghaz done, the people inside his castle now let loose their inhibitions.

Turning around, Roy searched for any sign of Riza Hawkeye. After Jean told him of her words, Roy knew that he could just ask the Sentinel's guardian, Lady Evita, for her ward's whereabouts. He had spotted her a dozen times, but his inner pride wanted him to find the Sentinel on his own.

Sentinel. Hm. Roy found it immensely _intriguing _as to how the Sentinel differed from the woman underneath the title. The Sentinel was fierce and passionate in her beliefs, a warrior Queen with lycan blood. Riza Hawkeye, however, was a different matter.

He just couldn't stop thinking about her. Riza was…_sublime_. That was all he could say to define her. She was caring and kind, with eyes that exuded warmth and a smile that intensely glowed with gentleness. She was a woman who held the world at her fist, yet instead of an iron grip, Riza held it with a tender caress.

Roy blinked. Was he becoming theatrical now?

It couldn't be helped, though. The woman, Sentinel or not, literally made him hers. There was just something, some connection that they shared. During their lovemaking, for Roy could not phrase it otherwise, that spark burst into pillars of flames and, for the first time in his three-hundred year life, he felt _alive_.

He felt warm-blooded, heart-beating alive.

At that moment, when a crowd parted, a blonde woman in a dark red dress that clung to her body in an appealing manner appeared. Roy's mouth, unbeknownst to his mind, formed a large smile. Without further ado, Roy left the wine glass on a nearby table and almost threw everyone out of the way as he hurried towards Riza, the smile never leaving his face.

She stood by a pillar, her brown eyes locked upon the dark blue of his, a smile, a twin of his, gracing her lips.

When Roy neared her, his black coat trailing, he spoke. "You're beautiful, my lady."

Riza's smile grew as a faint blush crept upon her cheeks. "Oh, you jest, milord."

Roy shook his head as he took her hand and kissed the top of it lovingly. "Whenever I speak of you, my dear, all I speak is truth."

The Sentinel gave him a tender smile as she entwined her arm around his. "You must be an accomplished Casanova in a past life, milord."

Roy chuckled at her words. Him, a Casanova? He had never thought about it that way. The woman was truly mind-stimulating. He had never met another person who managed to surprise him with words alone.

"Now that is a curiousity, my dear." The words came off his mouth, unbidden. For a moment, he felt Riza halt but she continued her steps.

"Funny. I used the exact same words in a conversation with Lady Evita this morning." She spoke, looking around, admiring the decorations. Roy looked around too, taking in the cheery atmosphere.

"Then, you and I must be fated for each other, my love, or we would not have known each other's thoughts." Roy said, not noticing the appellation he had given her.

_My love_. Riza did not understand what she was currently feeling. A part of her celebrated at his words. She had long wondered as to how it would feel to become the King's wife. Whoever the woman is, Riza knew that she would be the luckiest woman alive. Yet, another part felt scared. She was the Sentinel and she did not want to involve Roy in her complicated life.

Roy turned to look at her, noticing her sudden silence. Her eyebrows were furrowed and she was biting her lips. He almost groaned at the sight.

When Riza turned to face him, lips flushed red, Roy lost it.

Gripping her shoulders, Roy turned her to him and mashed his lips against her passionately, feeling her respond to his kiss with as much ardor as he felt.

This was heaven.

* * *

The Death Agent gazed at the two leaders, locked in a lover's embrace. Their lips were against each other, arms tight and embracing. He tipped his head to the side and saw his lycan ally sneer furtively at the scene. Interesting.

* * *

**AN: **_So, reviews everyone and take care! Let me know what ya think!_


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